


Got My Hands On You

by kageillusionz



Series: Uncle Connor [2]
Category: Fish Tank (2009), Starter for 10 (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Uncle Connor, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageillusionz/pseuds/kageillusionz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day of studying, Brian's shoulder and neck muscles complain and start a revolution. Enter Uncle Connor with his magical hands promising a massage which then turns into a 'massage'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got My Hands On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GQD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GQD/gifts).



> I blame this one entirely on **garnetquyen** for flinging the [NSFW gifset](http://ikeracity.tumblr.com/post/67349151390) that inspired this story. Love ya <3
> 
> All my hob nobs and undying love goes to **EbonyTavern** for their speedy beta!  <3

The dull ache began at the base of his neck, insistent and horrible. It had been ignorable about an hour ago, tolerable at best. But now, after spending the entire day hunched over a notebook and some reference texts, Brian was more than ready to throw down his glasses and call it a day. Shakespeare and Wordsworth may have won today, but Brian knew that the last laugh would be his.

Brian slowly unfurled from his seat, groaning in sweet agony as his spine returned to its natural position. He pushed away from the table in disgust. The pain in his neck had moved on, migrating from his neck all the way down his spine. Everything felt stiff. All of his muscles, without exception, were screaming for his attention: from his trapezius muscles all the way down to his latissimus dorsi.

_I’m never studying like that ever again_ , Brian noted, glaring at his chair. The clock on his bedside table blinked 3.17 PM at him, the numbers taunting him adding to the dizzying swirl of his headache.

His bed looked particularly inviting, sparkling with an ethereal glow in Brian's opinion. Had it eyebrows and hands, Brian was sure his bed would be waggling them and whispering ‘come hither’. And really, how was he — a poor over-worked university student — going to possibly ever refuse a nap? His pillow and blankets, clad in X-men bedsheets, were softer and newer and warmer than the ones he had at home; Connor had spared no expense in making sure Brian had all the things he needed to survive.

That nap sounded quite amazing actually.

Collapsing face-first into the sweet, fluffy embrace of the mattress, Brian stifled a yawn into his pillow and let the words of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern carry him away into a dreamless nap.

 

A disembodied voice woke him up a moment later. Or at least it felt like a moment ago when Brian had closed his eyes.

"—ri... Brian?"

Someone was shaking his shoulder and, in a very polite manner, Brian made a half-snort half-growl at them. He yawned widely, groggy still, and was more than a little annoyed that his nap had been interrupted. Turning his head from where he had face planted into his pillow earlier, Brian blearily peered up at Connor's face until it swam into focus. The sun had almost set and he could barely make out all of Connor’s features in the low light.

"Dinner's ready," Connor explained with an exasperated smile on his face. Around his neck was an apron decorated to look like the TARDIS. Brian would never have known how big a sci-fi buff Connor was had he not moved in and spied the collection of tapes. "But I found you've fallen asleep on me which is probably why you didn't hear me call from downstairs. Studying hard, I see."

Brian grumbled something intelligible, flopping over onto his back with a low hiss as achy muscles complained loudly once more. _Too much abuse all morning and afternoon_ , they cried, _Let us rest, you tosser!_

The small whine of pain Brian made didn’t escape Connor’s notice. “Are you alright?”

"Just a little bit of achy," Brian replied, smiling sheepishly despite the ache. "Muscles been complaining like Mrs. Brown." She was the lady who lived across the street from them and was known to have a complaint about anything and everything under the sun. Even though the sun was more of a cosmic stroke of luck than a constant when living in Bristol.

His comment coaxed a bark of laughter out of Connor. "That won’t do, Bri. I've got just the thing for you though. Don't move, let me go get it. Stay right there." Connor disappeared through his bedroom door before he could say otherwise.

Brian blinked slowly, tilting his head to look at the glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling. Two of them had fallen off, leaving behind twin dots of blu-tack. Connor had helped him stick them up when they had spent a day furnishing the room to Brian’s liking. He’d have to replace them when he was bothered.

"Won't dinner get cold?" Brian yelled out. The sound of his voice must have carried down the hallway. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said for Connor's reply. It came back as a garbled mess that sounded more Cyberman than human.

"What was that?"

Connor reappeared. He’d been going around the house shirtless again, and this time the apron was nowhere to be seen. In his broad hands, Connor held towels and some bottles. 

"I said, dinner’s already cold. I made spaghetti so it won't be any hardship to reheat it. You’re much more important. Now, take off your jumper and lay out these towels on the bed. We can't have your muscles seizing up later, not with your exams coming up."

Wordlessly, Brian took off his woollen jumper and shirt. He felt awfully self-conscious of his less-than-optimal male physique. Where Connor had compact muscles and chiselled abs, Brian had a soft belly and skinny everything. Not that it seemed to affect Connor. He loved every inch of Brian though, worshipping every inch of naked skin, leaving behind kisses over soft skin and tonguing quite avidly at his navel at any given chance to (Brian had quite liked that ticklish sensation). Still, his masculine pride couldn't help make the comparisons.

“I want you to put a pillow under your chest, or whatever position that makes you comfortable, but I want you on your belly. I need to be able to get my _hands on you_.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.”

Brian received a swat over his backside for his cheek. Laughing, he kicked the duvet to the bottom of his bed and spread out the fluffy towels. He shivered a little at the colder temperature without his layers. The weather had taken a turn for the colder — when does it ever stay warm in Bristol? — and Brian almost wished he could curl up with his duvet while Connor massaged his back. 

The sound of the window rolling shut made Brian start. Connor must have noticed the shiver. Connor was always considerate of him. It’s flattering and completely foreign to have someone so dedicated to his well-being. Sure. Charles and Spence had always been there for him, as had Mum, but to have someone’s sole primary focus was— exhilarating.

“What sort of music do you have on these tapes?”

It took Brian a long moment to realize Connor was rifling through the stack of tapes. The noises of someone clanking around with his cassette player brought Brian back into the present. “Hmm? Those are mostly mixes made by Spence. I think Charles managed to sneak in some classical in there. Says that I ought to have a rounded music taste...” A yawn caught him mid-sentence and the rest of the sentence disappeared into the ether. He was still groggy from his nap and sleepily made himself more comfortable laid out as he was on the pillow.

“I’ll assume Charles’ tape is the one marked ‘Classical’ then.” 

Brian was going to say ‘that’ll be the one’ but it came out more of a “mmrph” instead. It was hard to ignore the siren song that made his eyelids droop, even as the sound of violins quietly filled his room. It was Vivaldi’s _Four Seasons_. The tape was resuming play somewhere in the middle of _L’Autunno Adagio molto_.

All that knowledge melted away when Connor climbed onto the bed and settled his weight over the back of his thighs. Breathing got a little bit more difficult then. Brian couldn't keep the blush off his face. 

"Um."

"Shhh, relax. I know what I’m doing. Let me take care of you, baby boy," Connor whispered. The blush only deepened when he felt the press of his hard groin right up against his arse, rubbing enticingly.

“Mmm.” They moved slowly against one another, undulating with the crescendos of the violins.

"Do you like these jeans?" Connor asked, voice breaking the moment. "I might get oil over them and we don't have any more towels left to keep the oil off." He almost sounded concerned for the denim. Actually, Brian thought, he didn't sound concerned at all. Gleeful more than not.

Brian saw right through Connor's not-strictly-pure-or-innocent plans. 

"I am sort of attached, yes.” Brian gave his hips a wriggle. “Take them off for me?"

Not needing to be told twice, Connor raised up onto his knees. Brian arched upwards to provide enough space to grapple with the button and his fly. He was certain the motion would send the oil already on his back cascading over his sides in rivulets, but Connor's hands were always there to smooth them back up. 

Hooking his fingers underneath cotton and denim, Connor pulled everything off and carelessly tossed Brian's clothes to the end of the bed. He then rested a hand over the crest of Brian's right cheek and squeezed down. "Perfect."

The cap of the massage oil made a loud snapping noise, and Brian shivered in anticipation. "I've been told I'm really good with my hands." It was a simple throwaway sentence, but one that sent fire curling from the depths of Brian’s belly outwards.

"Maybe you missed your calling as a chiropractor?" Brian joked. His voice never wavered once and he gave himself a pat on the back. Suddenly, he was very glad that he was lying belly down, amongst other places.

"Maybe," Connor agreed, setting the bottle on Brian's side-table. His hands landed on Brian’s buttocks, oil warmed by his palms, and fingers gently kneading into the fleshy part.

"It's not my arse that needs massaging, you know," Brian said with a low moan. Connor had taken to lightly slapping at the side of his buttocks. "It's my back that's doing me in."

"We'll see to that in due time." Brian could hear the grin in Connor's voice. "Your arse is just so round and perfectly smooth." When Connor smacked at it lightly, Brian yelped. "Definitely bouncey. It’s calling to me, Bri. To run my tongue all over it, bite down into the flesh and do the most sinful of things to it."

A breathy moan escaped him.

"I'm going to start now. Let me know if something is particularly painful or uncomfortable. Ok, Bri?"

The sweet scent of lavender was already doing wonders in making him more relaxed and something akin to acquiescence stumbled out of his mouth. "Are you going to do this every time I manage to do something stupid and my body complains?"

"If I must,” Connor laughed. “Although, you could always study in my lap." Brian could almost see the eyebrow waggle in his mind's eye. Could almost see the suggestive gleam in Connor’s blue-grey eyes.

Connor began smoothing the oil all over his back. Just enough that it coated his back in a thin veneer and nothing dripped over his sides. Brian's reply died on his tongue, instead devolving into a wordless mumble at the sensation. He did love the brush of Connor’s callouses over his skin.

The small circular motions at his lower back stoked the embers underneath his skin, until the desire that pooled there became a small, dull fire. A low moan dragged its way out of his throat as Connor worked his magic on his back: squeezing, dragging his knuckles up and down both sides of his back, rubbing at his trapezius until finally thumbs were digging into the knots that formed.

Time lost all meaning. Brian was content letting Connor use his fingers and knuckles to do such amazing things to his back. He didn't realize Connor's massage routine turned wicked or that his moans somehow became those of pleasure. At least not until Connor’s hands ended up rubbing circles all over his arse.

"Mmmm," Brian moaned,relishing Connor's warm oiled hands there. He would be lying if he said that Connor's massage hadn't affected him in more ways than one. They — whoever the ‘they’ referred to, Brian's mind supplied in its half mushy relaxed state — had been right. Massages were sensual and Brian's cock had grown hard, digging into the fluffy towels underneath him.

"Good?" Connor's voice was low and husky. Apparently, Brian wasn't the only one affected by massages.

"Yeah. Really good," purred Brian, reaching a hand down to press against Connor's knee. "I feel amazing, all _loose_ and _relaxed_." Deliberate word choice there. Now that Brian felt like putty underneath Connor's hands, he couldn't keep his brain-to-mouth filter in check. It would hopefully have its desired effect on Connor; Brian wasn’t disappointed when he felt something twitch against his thigh. 

"You know what would feel even more amazing?” Brian purred out, twisting his hand until it could brush over the front of Connor’s trousers. “Your cock buried inside of me."

Connor gave out a surprised, strangled noise. "Bri-" The bed dipped when Connor leaned over to nose at his nape. His scent was likely drowned by the smell of lavender. "You minx. Am I— Am I so transparent?"

"Yeah." Brian dared not breathe when Connor turned him around. The bed squeaked as Connor moved even closer until their noses brushed together. "Your intentions are not always honorable, Connor. Not when you've been groping my ass for a good ten minutes already."

They snickered. A gentle kiss was placed over the shell of Brian’s ear. It was more of a tease really.

"You can't blame me what with the way you were moaning the house down, baby boy."

"House is still standing from what I can tell."

Connor let out a low growl of warning. "You're still speaking. I should do something about that." And before Brian could retort with a 'perhaps you should', Connor pressed their lips together. Tongues curled around one another messily and wet; his groans swallowed up by possessive kiss after possessive kiss.

Brian hadn’t noticed Connor reaching for a second bottle, not until it gave another click of being uncapped, this time a familiar sound. And since when had the sound of uncapping the lubricant become 'familiar'? 

It almost made Brian laugh helplessly had it not came out like a breathless gasp. Connor knew exactly what to do, efficient as always. His index finger caught the rim of his hole, playing with it but not quite thrusting in. More cold lube was added into the valley between his asscheeks.

"Cold!" Brian complained, much to the amusement of Connor who leaned forward to nose at his cheek contritely.

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"Nope." 

Brian hissed loudly when Connor finally pressed the lube inside with his fingers. His body was loose, plaint from the massage earlier underneath Connor’s talented hands. The earlier serenity was bleeding away, replaced by arousal and fueled by the desperate need to hear Connor's low grunts over the squeaking of bed springs.

"You should feel yourself," Connor growled, twisting his wrist and carefully scissoring his fingers. "Your little arse... so hot and tight, sucking in my fingers like the greedy little slut that you are. Can you feel that? I've only got two inside of you..."

"Connor," Brian whined, rocking back onto Connor's fingers that earned him a light smack. "More... please." He wasn't above begging when it came to getting what he wanted, and wanted _now_.

“Do you think I could ever get my entire fist inside you?” Connor hummed as a third pressed in beside the two. He loved watching Brian move, little shifts in motion as he tried to get closer. “Would you like that? Fuck yourself on my hand?”

He whimpered at the suggestion. Brian had never thought he’d desire a man. Yes, he had a crush on Erik. But he never thought he would end up in bed with his uncle. It was wrong to be with your family, and no doubt if Charles or his mother found out they’d wrench him away from Connor faster than warp speed. And yet, Brian found himself gravitating towards Connor regardless. Already ensnared by the siren song, Brian was consumed by the need to feel Connor’s hands upon his skin, his cock warm and heavy inside of him, fucking into him relentlessly. Brian couldn’t be happier and Connor seemed to reflect this sentiment.

“Connor…”

“Yeah. I thought you might,” murmured Connor, leaning forward to place lingering kisses on Brian’s lips. Kisses that Brian chased after when Connor pulled back. “But not today. I want to feel you around me, gorgeous boy. I love it when you’re tight and hot and hungry for me. Like you’ve been waiting all day for it.”

His cock twitched like it hadn’t been touched for ages. Brian shuddered, letting Connor’s words consume him. Never would he get enough of the way Connor spoke to him and his body was helpless but to _react_. “I suppose you are minutely more preferable,” Brian sniffed, startling a bark of laughter out of Connor. “How do you want me?” 

“Best for you to be on your side.” They shuffled on the bed until Brian settled over the towels comfortably. Taking a gentle hold of Brian’s leg, Connor pressed his knee upwards to his chest and Brian instinctively held his leg out of the way. He couldn’t help fight the instinctive blush that coloured his cheeks and chest, feeling awfully self-conscious.

“Gorgeous,” Connor whispered. His words sound reverent. It made Brian scoff, for Connor wasn’t doing too badly himself. Brian had eyes and had seen many people casting appreciative looks at him whenever they were out grocery shopping. 

“Shut up...” Brian said, his cheeks flaring up once more. Connor could have his pick of women (and men too) and all he wanted was Brian.

Huffing out his own amusement, Connor leaned over to brush a kiss over Brian’s temple. The skin there tingled pleasantly and like the blush, Brian couldn’t fight the impulse to smile.

Then achingly slowly, Connor lined up and pressed the head of his cock inside. It burned despite the lube. The glide was exquisite and Brian felt all the breath in his lung stolen as Connor pressed in the entire way.

“You okay?” Connor asked, his nose tracing a path back and forth near Brian’s ear. Indulgent and achingly fond. Brian hooked his arm around Connor’s neck and savoured the moment, sighing softly and nodding slowly in answer.

He gasped when Connor pulled out, and then again when Connor thrust in with one effortless flick of his hips. Again and again, Connor fucked into him. Sometimes slowly and leisurely as if they had all the time in the world, and then the next Connor’s cock would jab at Brian’s prostate brutally, leaving only sparkles and bright lights to explode behind Brian’s eyelids.

Sweat built up between them, sticky and gross and plunging his room to smell like lavender and sex. Brian couldn’t get enough and it was impossible to stop the chorus of Connor’s name that fell from his lips.

“What are you… thinking about?” Connor asked between grunts, hands holding him fast by the hips. Brian opened an eye and looked up at him, tracing the path of one bead of sweat as it rolled down the side of Connor’s jaw.

His mind went aptly blank, drunk as it was on the scent of Connor’s skin and the punishing pace Connor set. “You,” Brian answered truthfully, crying out when the head of Connor brushed up against his prostate. Another flurry of white light exploded into his vision.

“You say the sweetest things,” Connor said, a smile evident in his voice. “C’mere.” Obediently, Brian went willingly as Connor slipped in behind, using one of Connor’s biceps as a pillow.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered into Brian’s ear. His thrusts had slowed down again, giving him ample time to begin a list of all the parts he liked about Brian as Connor jerked him off. It was surprisingly a very long list and Brian was helpless, twisting on the towels and arching against Connor as he came into Connor’s fist with a low whine.

“Connor…” Brian gasped as Connor fucked him through his post-orgasmic high. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Brian,” Connor growled, sucking a possessive mark into his shoulder and grunting when he flooded the inside of Brian with his seed. It always felt a little weird, but Brian would never have it any other way. He felt safe with Connor’s arm wrapped around his waist and felt the loss acutely when his softened cock slipped out.

“You know.” Connor pressed a kiss to Brian’s shoulder. “I should be congratulated for lasting so long without jumping you what with all those indecent noises you made during the massage. Proud of me?” 

Brian gave a squawk of indignation and gave Connor a shove. “Really, a medal should be given to you,” he said through laughter. Connor leaned over after and kissed him earnestly and Brian forgot why he was laughing in the first place for a while.

 

After a shower, Brian sat at the island counter of Connor’s sparkling kitchen. He had stolen one of Connor’s henleys to wear and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, purring at the scent and feel of the soft fabric while waiting for Connor to hurry up with the reheating. Not that was any hurry, Brian thought with an impish grin as his eyes raked over the muscular planes of Connor’s back. Really, he was only human and no matter how often Connor roamed the house half-naked, Brian could never marvel over that shoulder-to-waist ratio enough.

When Connor set a heavenly smelling plate in front of him, Brian childishly tilted his head upwards for a kiss, settling in to eat once that had been granted.

“What was that for?” Connor asked afterwards, after he had sat down with his plate and beer. Brian tried very hard not to stare as Connor’s throat worked around a long swallow.

“Just…” Brian speared at a piece of penne and chewed on it thoughtfully. It tasted amazing, or perhaps it was just his thoroughly shagged-out brain talking. “For putting up with me and my temper. For making sure I’m watered and not starving while being mauled apart by dogs or drowning in beer. This is really good, by the way.”

“I see university housing hasn’t changed much then,” Connor commented wryly as he tucked into his pasta. “I had a close call with a Pomeranian once.”

“Did you now?” Brian asked, eyes gleaming with mischief at the non-sequitur. “Tell me all about it?”

Connor leaned over and licked a bit of pasta sauce off his lips. “Never,” Connor said with a wide grin then stole a mushroom off Brian’s plate. “That secret will stay with me to the grave. But I might be persuaded to tell you later if you’re good.”


End file.
